All Great Humorists Are Sad... I Cannot

I Have Seen The Dark Universe Yawning Where The Black Planets Roll Without Aim, Where They Roll In Their Horror Unheeded, Without Knowledge, Or Lustre, Or Name.

All My Tales Are Based On The Fundamental Premise That Common Human Laws And Interests And Emotions Have No Validity Or Significance In The Vast Cosmos-at-large.

Truly, There Are Terrible Primal Arcana Of Earth Which Had Better Be Left Unknown And Unevoked; Dread Secrets Which Have Nothing To Do With Man, And Which Man May Learn Only In Exchange For Peace And Sanity; Cryptic Truths Which Make The Knower Evermore An Alien Among His Kind, And Cause Him To Walk Alone On Earth.

To Me There Is Nothing More Fraught With Mystery & Terror Than A Remote Massachusetts Farmhouse Against A Lonely Hill. Where Else Could An Outbreak Like The Salem Witchcraft Have Occurred?

To Be Bitter Is To Attribute Intent And Personality To The Formless, Infinite, Unchanging And Unchangeable Void. We Drift On A Chartless, Resistless Sea. Let Us Sing When We Can, And Forget The Rest.